Take My Hand
by Tadpole24
Summary: They had drunk beer last time; today she brings cola and takeaway Thai food, holding the bags up as Ressler swings his front door open. Keenler post 2x06


_**It's been a while Keenler friends. The inspiration struck after 2x06. Hope you enjoy!**_

…

Take My Hand

…

It's been a while since she was last here, when her world was falling apart and her partner was there to help piece it back together again. They had drunk beer last time; today she brings cola and takeaway Thai food, holding the bags up as Ressler swings his front door open.

"I come bearing gifts."

A small smile crosses his pale and worn face, the first hint of life she has seen in him in a long time; the first time she can look at him and see the man he was when she first started at the Post Office. Without a word, he opens the door a little wider and allows her entrance.

She takes in a sweeping glance of the place before heading straight for the kitchen to unload the bags of food and drink. The furniture is all the same, couches in front of the TV which is playing the sports channel on mute. But that's about the only comparison she can draw to the last time she was here. Everything else is in a state of neglect; dishes piled up in the sink, clothes strewn across the floor and dining table, any sign of life in the minimal plants he has around the apartment are definitely gone now as well. She tries not to make it obvious that she's looking, but he must catch her anyway.

"We can just eat from the containers. I just haven't been home much this week." He tries to shrug it off, but Liz can see the pain behind his eyes. She knows he hasn't been sleeping, can tell that he's in a downward spiral, but she nods and grabs a couple of forks before heading for the couch.

They eat in silence, neither of them knowing how to broach the subject of the glaringly obvious fact that he has a problem. The empty pill bottles looking up at them from various positions around the apartment certainly don't help matters either.

"Thank you," he finally says, placing his half eaten container down and facing Liz on the couch, "for not saying anything." He runs a hand over his face, on the verge of breaking down and not wanting her to witness his tears again. "I don't know what to do."

Through the haze surrounding him, he feels something warm and light reaching out and when he opens his eyes, he sees that she's got her hand wrapped around his on his knee, "Well how about you start by letting someone in."

He turns his hand over in hers to grasp at her fingers, his broken thumb standing out against her skin as a distinct reminder that he is not in control. She is like a lifeline, tethering him to reality, but he knows that once she lets go, his resolve will certainly slip. "I'm trying," he says, voice raspy and worn, "I don't want to be this anymore."

"That's the first step."

And he has to smile at that, because of course his only friend in all of this is a shrink, "I swear to God, if you twelve-step me…"

She squeezes his fingers again, smiling back, "Nah, I'll let you do it your way." She knows him too well to think that she's going to be the one to change his mind on psychology. "Small, achievable goals, okay? That's all I'm asking."

He nods, serious once more, "And what if I fail?"

She untangles their hands, reaching for both their containers, "Then we keep trying." She hands his food to him, "Now eat."

…

It's late when she starts to think about leaving, but she can tell that he's not ready to be alone and, truth be told, she's dreading another night of sleeplessness in a sub-par hotel room while the guilt of the secret location of her ex-husband haunts the shadows in the night.

So when he suggests that they put a movie on, she nods and tells him something funny.

It should be weird that they reach out for each other's hand again, but they really can't find it in themselves to question it too much. Ressler's broken thumb rests heavy on Liz's hand, reminding them both just how lost he is right now and how the help he needs may be something that he's not willing to ask for. Liz knows that she's taking on a lot with him but she trusts him, more than she realised, and now she has to trust that he'll do the right thing by her.

When she starts to fade, her eyes drifting shut as the lights from the TV shift behind her eyelids, his hand untangles from hers and wraps around her shoulders instead, pulling her into his side. And she realises that it's as much for her as it is for him. Still, she doesn't pull away, a silent agreement passing between them.

He reaches out to grab the remote and switch off the TV and then pulls a blanket over the top of their relaxed forms.

Her head rests against his chest and he fights the desire to press soft kisses into her hairline. They're not there yet and he's pretty sure they both have a lot of work to on themselves before they can be comfortable with each other on that level.

But, for now, there is a calm over their souls and, for the first time in months, Liz closes her eyes without the weight of an ever present threat on her shoulders and Ressler breathes deeply as he realises that he doesn't need a pill to sleep tonight.

…

_**Thoughts?**_


End file.
